Red Blush
Alison L. Peoples

The snow of Moscow
relented to an April thaw:
A rose--
with a blush of red--
pushed its way out
and blossomed
without reserve.

Oh sweetness
of the Motherland
who wrote us
through the freedom
of her heart's desire.

Now you rest
in the womb of a
Tchaikovsky suite
And the flower you became
lay as a reminder
on your grave
for all that you gave.

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